


In the Midst of War

by amordantia



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Credence Barebone Learning Magic, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Letters, M/M, Protective Credence Barebone, Protective Original Percival Graves, Room of Requirement Shenanigans, Workaholic Original Percival Graves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 08:09:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amordantia/pseuds/amordantia
Summary: A few months after the Obscurus attack on New York, Credence is sent to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is fearful of being sorted and worried about his true place in the wizarding world, but the help of newfound friends reassure him.However, war looms on the horizon with He Who Must Not Be Named gaining followers and fear spreading across the country.Credence hopes he will be able to do what's needed when the time comes.





	1. The Newcomer's Sorting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, I am starting a multi-chaptered, Half Blood Prince inspired, sixth year Hogwarts fic. How'd you know??  
> In all seriousness, I do hope any readers will enjoy this.
> 
> A few notes before the first chapter: Credence is seventeen (at the start sixteen, but briefly) and Mr. Graves is NOT like forty something, however, he IS a bit older but not to worry! Nothing happens when Credence is 16-17. He just has a one-sided crush on Graves, ofc, but Graves is only fond of Credence and cares for him, but not romantically.  
> SO there won't be kissing or anything of the sort at Credence's present age. The Mature rating is more for a war side of things and violence, at least for a bit until Credence is older. It is a war, after all.
> 
> Just wanted to say that there's nothing that goes on between Graves and Credence throughout the story for the most part, so no worries. Credence does have a very hard crush on him, though, so be prepared for that.
> 
> If anything DOES happen, rest assured I'll write a warning in the A/N of that chapter.
> 
> Also a note that I will be deviating slightly from HBP plot and elements, but if something is way off, let me know. Some things (like classes) I've tweaked to better fit the story.
> 
> And a note that this is not beta-read so any mistakes are my bad (let me know politely in the comments if I've butchered smth thanks).
> 
> So, with that mess out of the way, read on!

London was different from New York. For one, it was greyer with a misty air most of the time.  
  
The crowd still bustled around, buzzing if quieter, just as it had in New York. Children still cried and laughed, men still strided confidently alongside their wives or friends. It was different, yes, but still the same. Maybe Credence needed those differences, anyhow.  
  
He caught Queenie's hand as they approached a larger mass of people. Muggles, Newt had called them. He frowned, gripping tighter to Queenie's hand. He hated crowds, particularly the ones who would leer at Mary Lou.  
  
He hated Mary Lou.  
  
Credence bit back on the guilt he felt from that thought. It wasn't right to think that way, he admonished himself mentally. Belatedly he realized his foolishness in thinking so strongly at all since Queenie squeezed his hand and cast him a sympathetic look.  
  
Despite his embarrassment, Credence was warmed by her reassurance. More than once on his trip from New York to London, in the hopes he could attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he wished she had perhaps adopted him at the orphanage when he was a young boy. He thought life would be better, then. Even with the Obscurus gone, he wasn't entirely sure how things would be in Hogwarts or if he'd even be allowed at his age, given his lack of magical knowledge.  
  
Credence was drawn from his thoughts as he approached a small, welcoming pub titled _The Leaky Cauldron_.  
  
Queenie, Jacob, and him followed after Newt into the pub, the dim lighting inside obscuring the customers, but a mostly toothless man at the counter grinned at Newt.  
  
Newt gave him a polite nod in return before taking a sidedoor exit, arriving in front of a brick wall that he tapped with his wand. Credence watched in amazement as the bricks shuffled away to reveal an alley lined with shops. A frown tugged at his lips, however, when he noted a majority of the shops were boarded up.  
  
"This way," Newt said, approaching _Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary_ to begin their search for supplies. He held his wand at the ready as Queenie did. Before Credence took another step, Newt told him, "Be careful, Credence."

* * *

Credence arrived last at _Mr. Ollivander's_ , whom Newt had informed him was a wand-maker, perhaps the best in the wizarding world. His school supplies, generously provided for by Newt and Queenie, were magically suspended in the air above. Queenie gestured for him to go inside, a smile on her lips though her demeanor displaying a defensive stance. Credence entered the slightly dusty shop. Rows and rows of slender boxes lined the bookshelves. Sunlight filtered in, rays reaching fingertips out, playing with the dust particles floating aimlessly in the air.  
  
"Ah, hello, there," Credence heard an old voice crone. "Tricky to come here nowadays, young man, tricky indeed."  
  
He met the eyes of an old man. His white hair was in disarray and wrinkles cut deep into his face, though his eyes were kind and held an almost youthful twinkle in them. His kind demeanor was a stark contrast to the dim mood outside.  
  
"You must be Mr. Ollivander, sir," Credence replied, nervousness thrumming in time with his heartbeat.  
  
"That I am. What may I do for you today, dear boy?" Mr. Ollivander asked.  
  
"Well, sir," Credence began, "I was l looking for.. a wand."  
  
Mr. Ollivander pondered over his words, "Hm.. interesting indeed. Let's see."  
  
He hobbled over to one of many rows of boxes, thumbing through them until landing on one. He returned to the shop's entry, lifting the lid and slipping the veil of the box aside to reveal a lovely red wand.  
  
"Red oak wood," Mr. Ollivander described, "9 and 1/2 inches, very sturdy, dragon heartstring core."  
  
Credence hadn't touched it for more than a second before Mr. Ollivander snatched the wand back.  
  
"Definitely not, no," he mumbled, finding instead a box that had a white wand inside.  
  
"Aspen wood, 10 and 3/4 inches, slightly swishy, unicorn tail hair core." Mr. Ollivander offered him the wand.  
  
After not having snatched it from Credence before he could try anything, Credence met Mr. Ollivander's gaze with a look of confusion, "Sir.. I don't understand. What should I do?"  
  
"Why, just try to swish it or wave it slightly. Just to get a spark or feeling. When your wand chooses you, you'll know," Mr. Ollivander said.  
  
Credence didn't feel reassured by his words, particularly given the minimal feeling this wand gave him, but tried nevertheless.  
  
A result of his minute swishing was a nearby glass shattering and the wand being removed from his grasp.  
  
"No, not quite," Mr. Ollivander mumbled.  
  
The process continued with a few more wands, one of which set a tablecloth on fire, until Mr. Ollivander's hand landed on a box that gave him pause.  
  
"Perhaps," he thought aloud.  
  
"Perhaps what?" Credence asked, but wasn't given an answer as Mr. Ollivander presented the wand to him. The wood glittered warmly in the light and Credence felt an inexplicable draw to it.  
  
As he picked it up, Mr. Ollivander described it, "Sycamore wood, very swishy, 8 and 1/2 inches, unicorn tail hair core."  
  
Credence grasped the wand in hand. Almost immediately, he felt something like warmth and comfort flood his chest. The wand let out a beautiful array of colorful sparks all around him and Mr. Ollivander. Mr. Ollivander appeared as elated as Credence felt.  
  
"Very good, very good," Mr. Ollivander spoke, taking the wand from Credence to place inside the box. He handed the box to Credence with a twinkle in his eye, "I expect great things from you, particularly given how well matched you and your wand are."  
  
Credence left the shop and couldn't stop thinking about the entire experience. He told the others about it, much to their delight and support. Their happiness quickly sobered, however, and they hurriedly Apparated from Diagon Alley.

* * *

On the way to a place called Hogsmeade, Newt explained the four Houses to Credence.  
  
"So," Credence began, "which House are you in?"  
  
Newt grinned at that, his eyes on a passing dog, "Ah, Hufflepuff, actually."  
  
Credence smiled at that, inwardly hoping he could be in Hufflepuff as well.  
  
Newt had also explained Credence would be sorted privately in the Headmaster's office, a day before the Sorting Ceremony for first years and term started. Though Credence was nervous, he looked forward to the sorting.

Slightly hesitant, Credence asked, "Newt, why was Diagon Alley abandoned?"

Newt and Queenie exchanged a look, "Well, Credence, it's because You-Know-Who's followers, the Death Eaters, are on the rise."

"You can never be too careful," Queenie added, "I'm a bit surprised Mr. Ollivander was in his shop, anyway. Most places were shut down and the owners mysteriously disappeared."

Credence pondered over their explanations, listening to his owl chirp in his cage.

* * *

They arrived at Hogsmeade a little after dark. Queenie and Jacob had settled in a shop which was transfigured into a home, the sitting room to the left and further down the kitchen. Queenie led Credence upstairs to his room to leave his supplies and bird, a handsome Great Horned owl he decided to name Percy after Mr. Graves.  
  
Mr. Graves had helped him in New York, brought him to Newt and aided in the extraction process of the Obscurus. Credence's seventeenth birthday was arriving soon and he was amazed to have survived the extraction or Mary Lou Barebone herself.  
  
He despised the shared name, wanting nothing more to do with the woman who plagued his childhood and left ugly, smudged marks on his happiness and comfort and literal scars on his skin. Credence tried to draw his mind from the downward spiral he fell down. He pet Percy's feathers through the cage and grinned when he thought of what Mr. Graves would say at the owl's name.  
  
"Credence, honey?" Queenie asked, her tone almost tentative.  
  
Credence turned to her, still smiling. "What is it?"  
  
She returned his smile, melting into it beautifully. "Well, I just wanted to ask you a question. I mean, Jacob and me.."  
  
She looked out the bedroom's window, taking a deep breath, before continuing, "See, since England's not strict on relationships with No-Majs and wizards, Jacob asked me to marry him."  
  
Credence felt his heart jump at the news. "Queenie, that's great!"  
  
She nodded happily, still seeming ready to burst with something. Credence wondered, for a moment, what other announcement she would make.  
  
"So we're getting married, but we wanted to know if.. well, we wanted to know if we could adopt you? It might help in school, you know, what with the teachers and students. And Kowalski-Goldstein has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Queenie rambled.  
  
Credence's eyes filled with tears and he stopped short of hugging Queenie, though in the next moment she opened her arms in a welcoming gesture.  
  
Wrapped in her embrace and hearing her light laughter drift to the ceiling of his room, Credence felt more at home than he ever had in his life.  
  
The grin on his face hurting as he continued to smile, Credence told her, "I'd love to."

* * *

They all enjoyed a nice, quiet dinner in the dining room. Credence glanced away from the adoring looks Queenie and Jacob shared, but couldn't stop the excitement and nervousness in his bones at how they would sometimes look at him. He'd always wanted a family and he thought there would be no family better than this one.  
  
Newt, halfway through dinner, caught one of his nifflers trying to knick the silverware. "Come now," he muttered, drawing the niffler close to him.  
  
Credence watched the creature shuffle into Newt's coat hanging from his chair. "Newt, will you be helping out with Care of Magical Creatures this year?" Credence received a letter of his classes and asked Newt about them when they were in Diagon Alley.  
  
"Dumbledore would like me to," he answered, eyes on the tablecloth.  
  
"I'd like you to," Credence said, "I mean, I won't really know anyone else there."  
  
Newt nodded, "Well, perhaps then.. but Hagrid, the Groundskeeper and Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts, teaches the subject, you know."

"But," Newt conceded, "I'll think about it."

* * *

They finished dinner in a pleasant buzz of meaningless conversation. Queenie shared anecdotes about a wizarding shop center like London's Diagon Alley while both Jacob and Credence interjected to ask questions.  
  
As Credence went to bed after, he stared at the cream colored ceiling in his room thinking about Hogwarts and everything that awaited him. He practiced basic magic, though it was harder to do so without a wand, in New York with Mr. Graves. Since they arrived a few days early from his sorting, Newt and Queenie would aid Credence in his lessons. Thankfully, Dumbledore knew about the amount he needed to catch up on and had suggested private lessons with the professors.  
  
Credence really wished, ever since leaving New York, that Mr. Graves could teach him more magic than he had the brief time they spent together. He tried to shove the thought of Mr. Graves from his mind, the glowing praise when Credence made something hover, the quiet reassurance when Credence failed to make something vanish, the dark, black pools of ink that Credence became too lost in, the shifting muscles in his forearms when he rolled his shirtsleeves up, the expanse of his back that his clothes gripped so tightly.  
  
Credence felt heat trace over his cheeks and ears and tried to shake his current line of thought. It's not as if it mattered, anyway, since Mr. Graves only thought of him as.. what, exactly? A pupil? A scared, helpless child? A liability, seeing as he was responsible for the destruction of half of New York City?  
  
Credence threw his bed covers from his pajama clad legs, reaching into his trunk to find a book Mr. Graves had gifted him over magical plants.  
  
He heard a soft knock on the bedroom door. "Come in," he called.  
  
Queenie entered with a glass of something and a grin on her lips. "Oh, honey, you know we all care about you, right?"  
  
Credence flushed further at her words, "I know, Queenie."  
  
Even as he said the words, his chest tightened. Mary Lou never outright said she cared, but said everything she did was for the greater good. It was for the betterment of their cause, better to end the lives of witches by exposing them to the world.   
  
But when Credence looked at Queenie, he remembered her kind words on the trip to London. He recalled Jacob helping him feed to mooncalves, Newt helping put Dittany on his hands to heal the wounds Mary Lou left. They helped him, he knew. But how much longer could that help last?  
  
"Honey," Queenie tutted, setting the tray on a nightstand by the bed. "Can I sit?"  
  
Credence nodded and Queenie sat beside him on the bed.  
  
"I know attending Hogwarts might be scary for you. It's new and strange and, well, probably like nothing you ever imagined before," Queenie said, handing him a cup of cocoa. "But we're all right behind you. And the professors.. they'll help."  
  
Credence grasped the warm cup, willing it to warm the parts of himself he didn't care for. He wondered about the professors, about the power they held over him in their authority. Queenie hesitated before gently placing a hand on Credence's shoulder. He jumped slightly, before relaxing under her grasp, "You'll be great, sweetheart. You'll fit right in and you know Newt and I will help you before you go."  
  
Percy ruffled his feathers and hooted in his cage, almost as though he were offering the same reassurance Queenie tried to provide.  
  
Credence's grip on the cup tightened, "Will I get to come back? Here, I mean."  
  
Queenie answered, "Of course, Credence. Hogwarts lets school out for holidays, like Christmas. Well, Teenie and I celebrate Hanukkah, but if you want, we could decorate for Christmas, too."  
  
Credence let a smile slip, "Okay, Queenie. I'm just glad I get to come back."  
  
"Me too," she replied, standing and taking the tray, "Go ahead and drink your cocoa if you want it. Bathroom's down the hall to the left. Jacob and mine's room is down to the right. Newt's in a guest room opposite ours. 'Night, Credence."  
  
"Goodnight, Queenie."  
  
She closed the door quietly and Credence picked up on a shimmering magic after she shut it. Belatedly he realized she must have cast some sort of muffling sound charm as he heard the faint, muffled clang of pots and pans from dinner washing themselves downstairs, but the sound was distant and less jarring.  
  
He felt a rush of affection for her in that moment and he returned under the covers and opened the Herbology book. He sipped the cocoa she made and felt warmth seep into his bones. He read until his eyes grew heavy and he shuffled into the washroom to brush his teeth. Credence went downstairs to place his cup in the sink where, true to his theory, the dishes had washed and dried themselves. Credence wondered if the dishes at Hogwarts magically washed themselves before recalling Newt's mention of house-elves. He frowned as he ascended the stairs, hoping the house-elves weren't treated as he was under Mary Lou's care.  
  
Once again, he was grateful to be rid of the Barebone name. He returned to his bed, placing the Herbology book on the nightstand and turning the lamp off.  
  
He fell into a dreamless sleep, hoping for a successful practice of magic in the morning.

* * *

The next few days before he was sent to Hogwarts were spent practicing basic Charms, Transfigurations, and Defense spells. Newt, with the aid of Queenie, created another guest room that served as a training area complete with dummy combatants and reinforced Cushioning Charms to insure misfiring or accidents didn't upset the rest of their home.  
  
Credence's Sycamore wand grew more attuned to him as he used magic more. He learned it was easier for him to channel his magic and commands when using a wand.  
  
Credence recalled something Queenie said one morning practice, "Your wand is basically there to focus your magic, Credence. It gives you a way to harness any command or spell and, if I know anything about wand wood, I know that yours is well matched to you."  
  
At lunch, she explained more about his wand. "See, Sycamore wands are for those witches and wizards who want new experiences, new challenges, and adventure. They're built for curious folk, really, and don't take well to boredom."  
  
Credence mulled over this, absentmindedly rubbing the dips and bumps of his wand, "What about the core? Mr. Ollivander mentioned mine was unicorn tail hair."  
  
Queenie sipped her drink before answering, "Well, Mr. Ollivander works with three primary cores: dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, and phoenix feather. Dragon heartstring is for fighters, really, and very combative in nature. Phoenix feather cores are rare and are matched with folk with a more individualistic nature. It's common knowledge, even to us American witches and wizards, that Harry Potter's wand core is phoenix tail feather. Some would say that young man is very independent."  
  
Credence nodded, knowing from both Newt and Mr. Graves just how important Harry Potter was to the wizarding world.  
  
"And unicorn hair?"  
  
Queenie glanced at Credence's wand, "That's what I find funny about your wand. See, dragon heartstring cores can have wand owners that are Dark wizards, but also good wizards. Unicorn hair, according to Mr. Ollivander, has the most difficulty turning to the Dark Arts. It's well versed in healing, consistent magic. Paired with your wand wood, I think it's a very strong, defensive, and empathetic wand."  
  
"Why do you find it funny that unicorn tail hair is my core? Is it because--" Credence took a breath, trying not to let any anger or hurt into his voice, "--because of the Obscurus?"  
  
Queenie frowned. "Oh, no, honey, no. Not at all. I just.. Credence, you're a fighter. You may not look it and you may seem shy, but you fight. Why else do you think you were able to live so long with the Obscurus inside you? You had a will to keep going, honey, you resisted a darkness that even most experienced witches and wizards couldn't. So it's interesting, to me at least, that you weren't paired with dragon heartstring, but instead with such an emotional core."  
  
"Then again," she added, "that may not be such a bad thing."

* * *

On August 31, Credence gathered his trunk and owl, his school supplies sorted inside the dark brown trunk along with new clothes and school robes Queenie provided and boarded a carriage with Newt. Queenie and Jacob bade them goodbye, Queenie squeezing his hand, her plain silver band glittering in the summer sunlight.  
  
"You be good, honey," she told him, smiling, "Be sure to write us when you can, if you want I mean."  
  
Credence nodded, squeezing her hand back. "When will the wedding be, Queenie?"  
  
"Well, we were thinkin' of having the ceremony October first," she answered, "but we've got the paperwork in order and today we'll be heading to the Ministry to make it official."  
  
Credence smiled at them, "So, you're adopting me today?"  
  
Queenie grinned brightly, "That's right, honey!"  
  
Credence was caught off guard by her hug, though after a fearful moment, he melted welcomingly into it.  
  
When he straightened, Newt congratulated him before they set off for the entrance of Hogwarts. Credence asked him about the horse-like creatures that drew the carriage. They were ghostly in appearance and their bones were prominent under their leathery skin.  
  
"They're thestrals," Newt explained, "Very misunderstood creatures. Only--"  
  
He cut himself off, prompting Credence to ask, "Only what?"  
  
"Only those who have seen death can see them." Newt finished.  
  
Credence was quiet for a while after that until they reached the gates of Hogwarts where a tall man in dark robes awaited them. His long nose and disgruntled look reminded Credence of Mary Lou's stern expression. His curtain of black hair looked slightly unkempt and he walked toward the carriage, his robes lifting to resemble some sort of monstrous wings.  
  
"Scamander, you're here escorting the newcomer, Credence Barebone?" The man asked.  
  
Credence flinched at the last name and Newt corrected the man, "It's Kowalski-Goldstein, actually."  
  
The man said nothing, but turned on his heel and murmured something under his breath that caused the gates to open. "This way," he told them.  
  
Credence steered his wheeled trunk, Percy sat atop and chirping mindlessly.  
  
"He might need a flight," Newt told Credence softly.  
  
"That will have to wait, Mr. Scamander. The Headmaster wishes to see Mr. Kowalski-Goldstein now."

Upon entry, Credence was taken aback by Hogwarts. The castle's architecture screamed of an ancient sense of magic. From the first step taken into the entryway, to their walk down the halls, Credence sensed a powerful, old magic buzzing in every suit of armor, moving painting, and changing staircase.  
  
"They move," Credence stated as they approached a large staircase.  
  
"They're a bit tricky," Newt replied. They crossed many stairs before reaching a gargoyle statue. The man who lead them murmured a word to the statue and it turned to reveal a spiral staircase.  
  
They ascended the steps to reach a landing with a large door. The man knocked and a calm voice responded, "Enter, Severus."  
  
Upon entering, Credence noted the expansive office of the Headmaster. Along bookshelves were knick knacks, strange items that teemed with magic. Upon a perch to the left of the Headmaster stood a proud scarlet phoenix. Credence's eyes widened in shock at the beauty of the bird. Percy nibbled his finger then as though to chastise him for thinking the phoenix was so beautiful instead of him.  
  
He held back a chuckle, glancing up to meet the Headmaster's pale blue gaze. The man before him was old, white hair under a lilac hat lined with gold. His robes were a similar color, though Credence noticed his left hand was shrivelled and blackened as though burnt.  
  
"You must be Credence," he spoke softly, though a twinkle in his eye led Credence to believe the man knew more than just that.  
  
"Sit, please," he said, gesturing with his good hand to a chair in front of the desk. "I see you've already met the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Snape," he continued.  
  
Snape had taken a spot near the desk, his dark eyes boring into Credence. Newt stood slightly behind Credence's chair, meeting neither Snape nor the Headmaster's eyes.  
  
"I, of course, am Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Here today to oversee your sorting is the Transfiguration professor, Minerva McGonagall," Dumbledore said.  
  
Just then, an older woman dressed in deep blue robes entered the office. Atop her head was a matching witches' hat and on her face was an indifferent expression. Credence thought she looked like someone's strict grandmother.  
  
"This is the new student?" She asked, though her words didn't sound like a question. From a shelf in the office she took a mangy old hat with patches scattered on it. "I suppose this chair will do just as well," she commented, walking toward Credence.  
  
"This," Dumbledore began, "is the Sorting Hat. Professor McGonagall will place it on your head and it will determine which of the Houses you are best suited for."  
  
True to his words, McGonagall placed the old, brown hat on his head. He felt it stir before a voice from it startled him, "Ah, a bit old for a Sorting, eh?"  
  
Credence flushed in embarrassment, not assuaged by the hat's next words, "Not to worry, we'll find you a place in Hogwarts yet."  
  
It seemed everyone in the office held their breath, awaiting the hat's verdict.  
  
"Let's see," it said, "Yes, very courageous.. but also cunning. Loyal, but only to those you trust."  
  
_Please just pick already,_ Credence thought desperately.  
  
"You can't rush these things, boy," the hat reminded him before continuing its judgement. "You have great potential, I see. We could make a great wizard out of you yet. But perhaps you do not see how great you could become?"  
  
Credence didn't reply, only wishing with each passing moment to sink into the floor and disappear.    
  
"What a great wizard you could be, if given the proper training. You've already had a bit of practice, haven't you? Yes, what a hungry mind you have. Chasing after answers. Answers, yes. Why are you here? Are you really meant to be? Who will you be, in the future?" The hat droned on.  
  
"Yes, with a questioning mind like yours, better be..."  
  
Credence thought he heard someone, maybe Newt or Professor McGonagall, take a sharp breath before the hat announced:  
  
"RAVENCLAW!"  
  
Professor McGonagall replaced the hat on its place on the bookshelf while Snape grumbled something that sounded like, "It wasn't necessary for it to yell."  
  
There was a small round of applause from the others as Credence mind raced. Ravenclaw. The House of wisdom, creativity, individuality, and intuition. The part of him that wished for Hufflepuff was disappointed, but he was glad the hat viewed him as smart enough to be in Ravenclaw.  
  
"Get your things settled into the common room. Professor McGonagall will escort you to Ravenclaw Tower. I look forward to seeing you at the beginning of term feast, Credence," Dumbledore told him.  
  
Credence thanked him before waving to Newt and following Professor McGonagall out of the Headmaster's office. She answered a riddle the tower's doorknocker posed before bidding Credence goodnight.  
  
He hoped fervently that he would find his place among those in Ravenclaw, along with a place in the wizarding world itself.

* * *

Once in the boys' dormitory, Credence let Percy out of his cage and opened a window to let him fly out.  
  
For a frightful moment, he watched as Percy flew out of sight into the horizon and worried he wouldn't return.  
  
He let out a relieved breath when he eventually returned, pecking again at his fingers and bumping his head against Credence's arm.  
  
As he sat on his new bed and stroked Percy's brown plumage, Credence felt hope for the start of his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note that future chapters will be a LOT longer, this was just a sort of introductory chapter to lay ground work.
> 
> And yes, I placed Credence in Ravenclaw even though I see him in both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. I just think it'd be interesting.
> 
> Also a note that future chapters will have letters in them from and to Credence from others.


	2. Fortune Favors the Bold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a LOT longer. I'm not sure if every other chapter is gonna be as long as this one, but it'll definitely be longer than the first.
> 
> I tried to match up schedules as well as I could and events (using a calender specific to events in the book).
> 
> Credence and Percival will be writing a LOT of letters between them, as will Queenie, so apologies if it ever gets confusing in anyone's reply.
> 
> To the best of my research, I've come up with what each professor would be teaching in sixth year. I've also sort of paraphrased or used quotes from HBP. Full disclosure then, one quote in particular isn't mine.
> 
> I did summarize some people's words and lessons, so take that as you will.
> 
> And uhh, well, I hope you guys are in this for the long run because I'm pouring a lot of dedication into this.
> 
> As always, this is not beta-read so any mistakes are mine (you're welcome to kindly point them out when needed).

Credence's robes, now with the emblem of Ravenclaw, were set upon his bed the next day. He rose and showered in an adjacent bathroom, combing his now longer, shaggier hair. He was glad to be rid of the hideous bowl cut Mary Lou insisted he (and forced him to) have.  
  
He tied the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw's tie around his neck, leaving it looser in tightness. He wore the new trainers Queenie gifted him, feeling marginally guilty at the amount of money she and Jacob had spent on not only his supplies, but also his new wardrobe. Credence checked his supply list and set everything in his bag for the next morning when classes started.  
  
He arrived in the Great Hall to find the professors at a long elevated table. Newt entered a moment after him, explaining the table was the High Table.  
  
He gestured to four cylinders that were placed to the right of the High Table. Each one was full of different jewels and judging by the colors (red, green, blue, and yellow), Credence guessed they were for each House.  
  
“What do the stones represent?” He asked Newt after explaining his guess at what the cylinders represented.  
  
“House points,” Newt answered, “Professors will award you or your classmates a given number of points based on correct answers to questions or performances in lessons.”  
  
The day passed without incident. Newt led Credence to a greenhouse where he was able to meet Professor Sprout, the Herbology professor.  
  
She was overjoyed at his knowledge of plants and walked to her array of Venomous Tentacula.  
  
"No doubt you know what these are, Mr. Kowalski-Goldstein," she said.  
  
Credence beamed as he saw the plants and their dangerous tendrils that crept up to grasp him. "Amazing," he murmured before turning to Professor Sprout.  
  
"Professor," he began, "what plants will we be working with this year?"  
  
Professor Sprout shook her head, though her response was good-natured, "Now, now, if I told you everything, you wouldn't be surprised! But I'm sure you'll be glad to see more plants."  
  
Credence and Newt returned to the castle to be greeted by Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Credence, there you are," she said, "I must speak with you about your classes."  
  
She lead him to her office, gesturing for him to sit. He sat in the chair across from her, though his gaze perused the rest of the room.  
  
"Now, Credence, since you have not taken your Ordinary Wizarding Level exams, or O.W.L.s, your scheduling is.. well, tricky, to say the least. As you should know, Professor Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic have agreed the best course of action is to have you placed in standard classes. That includes Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, and Potions. Given private lessons you will attend with the professor of each subject as needed, we hope within the next month or so you will be ready to take your O.W.L.s. You have a lot of education to catchup on and while I and the other professors will be aiding your growth in these subjects, we do not expect you to slack off," she explained.  
  
"I understand, ma'am," he replied.  
  
Her expression grew softer, then, "Not to worry too much, though. After all, those in Ravenclaw have a certain intuition and the Sorting Hat has never before been wrong."  
  
Credence nodded at her words before departing.  
  
He hoped he could make friends, or at least one, in Ravenclaw. He dreaded the thought of a school year spent alone.

* * *

The Great Hall was decorated in blues, wisps of mist and cloud unfurling in the enchanted night sky. Credence recalled the spellwork behind the image from Hogwarts, A History. He entered the Hall with Newt just as students poured in. He saw those in Ravenclaw colors sit at the second table to the left in the middle. He joined them, sitting at a more vacant end near the High Table. Newt waved to him before taking a seat at the High Table and Credence fiddled with his wand.  
  
There was a small part of him that was in shock at his admittance into Hogwarts, adoption from Queenie and Jacob, and surreality of existing in the Wizarding World. He knew there must be some who knew of the incident in New York, the frightful Obscurus attacks and whispers of Death Eaters following He Who Must Not Be Named wanting to use such a powerful weapon. No matter how tightly the information was held by the Magical Congress of the United States of America, Credence knew some information was bound to be released by someone. He only wished his name wasn't included in what had slipped.  
  
A girl with wavy white hair approached his end of the table and while some younger students sat near him, the spots next to and in front of him were left empty. The girl, strange glasses atop her head, occupied the seat in front of him.  
  
"Hello," he greeted her, noting more and more strange things about her appearance. She wore earrings that looked like radishes hang from the metal and strange bracelets of mismatched gemstones. Her pale eyes were a bit unnerving as they assessed him.  
  
"I'm Luna Lovegood. Are you new here? I didn't see you on the train," she replied.  
  
"Yes, I arrived yesterday. My name's Credence. Credence Kowalski-Goldstein," he told her. A part of him focused solely on how right the last name sounded. In any case, it was better than Barebone.  
  
She nodded then. "I've always liked hyphened names. It really shows character and, according to Nillyhoppers, they're good luck."  
  
Presuming 'Nillyhoppers' to be some magical creature he didn't know about, Credence continued to converse with Luna.  
  
"What classes do you have this year? Are you in my year?" He asked.  
  
"I am. Based on my O.W.L.s, it looks like I have Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures."  
  
Credence's fears were assuaged at her prediction for classes since most were shared with him.  
  
They watched first years pour in and their Sorting Ceremony, congratulating each new Ravenclaw with a round of applause.  
  
As dinner drew to a close, with Luna bein oddly fond of the pudding, Credence listened carefully as Professor Dumbledore quieted the murmur in the Hall to give an announcement.  
  
"I would like to give a warm welcome to Mister Horace Slughorn, an old friend and colleague of mine, who will be taking up the post of Potions professor this year," he said, "And give a kind welcome to Professor Severus Snape as he is taking up the post for Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.  
  
"Now, I would like to explain to everyone of why you were searched upon your arrival tonight. Like you, there was, at a time, a young man who walked these very halls and attended these very classes. He sat where you have, slept under the roof of this very castle. And his name," Dumbledore continued as everyone held their breath in anticipation, "was Tom Riddle."  
  
A chatter had broken out among the students though Credence was confused. Luna leaned closer to him before saying, "It's He Who Must Not Be Named."  
  
The chatter ceased as Dumbledore spoke again, "As I look upon you all tonight, I reminded that every moment, hour, and day, dark forces are attempting to infiltrate this castle. Their greatest weapon... is you."

* * *

A Ravenclaw Prefect called for the students of Credence's House to follow him, though Professor McGonagall told the sixth years to wait at their tables to receive schedules for the year. She saw Gryffindors first, Hufflepuffs second, Ravenclaws third, and Slytherins last. She confirmed Luna's schedule and gave Credence his, mentioning their arrangement with O.W.L.s and private lessons.  
  
Credence walked alongside Luna as they traversed the staircases to arrive at Ravenclaw's Tower. Once there, Luna used the eagle doorknocker. The eagle posed a question for them, _"I am the beginning of everything, the end of everywhere. I'm the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space. What am I?"_  
  
Luna turned to Credence. "Do you know the answer, Credence?"  
  
He thought for a moment, turning the words over in his mind before asking the eagle politely to repeat them. He waited a moment longer before answering.  
  
"Is it.. death?"  
  
The eagle paused for a moment before the door swung open. Credence thought he heard the bronze bird mutter, _"Strange answer, stranger student, perhaps,_ " before he entered with Luna.  
  
"Have you settled in well?" She asked.  
  
"Yes, thank you for asking. I suppose.. well, if you wouldn't mind, we could spend the free period in the morning before Charms together? I don't really know anyone else except for Ne--- I mean, Mr. Scamander," Credence rambled.  
  
Luna nodded. "Sure. I'll go to my room now. Watch out for the Nargles."  
  
Credence bade her goodbye before entering his own dormitory where he saw four other boys settling in for the night. He felt a surge of gratitude at their polite ignorance of him. He didn't wish to draw any more attention to himself than he might already.  
  
He pulled out his book on Herbology and read a chapter or two before whispering, " _Nox._ "  
  
He fell into a fitful sleep, devoid of any sense of comfort, but instead repeating Dumbledore's words at the feast.  
  
_"Their greatest weapon... is you."_

* * *

Credence woke early the next morning and dressed in school robes. He exited the dormitory to arrive in the spacious, airy common room. He glanced up at Rowena Ravenclaw's statue glittering in the early sunlight.  
  
He wondered again at why, perhaps, he had been placed in Ravenclaw instead of Hufflepuff.  
  
The soft tap of his shoes against the tiled floor echoed in the room as he browsed the bookshelves. He plucked a volume on magical plants and settled in a deep blue armchair by a window overseeing a part of the Forbidden Forest and mountains. As he read, his mind drifted to the lessons of the day and, more importantly, Queenie and Jacob's wedding ceremony. Warmth spread into his chest at the thought of the closest people who would ever come to be a family for him.  
  
His train of thought halted as he heard a familiar voice call, "An early bird, are you? I like to get up early myself."  
  
Luna took the armchair across him, similarly dressed in her school robes.  
  
"Good morning, Luna," Credence greeted her, closing the book in his hand.  
  
"Magical plants? My friend Neville likes those. You remind me of him. You both seem to have confidence issues," she said.  
  
Credence, slightly taken aback, blinked dumbly at her. "Oh."  
  
"It's alright. I'm sure Neville would like you well enough," she reassured him.  
  
"Is he a Ravenclaw?"  
  
She shook her head. "Gryffindor, actually."  
  
They spent a time sitting in mostly comfortable silence until Luna asked, "Have you gathered your supplies for today? We have a free period before Charms, then Herbology, lunch, Transfiguration, a free period for me while you're taking Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Care of Magical Creatures."  
  
Credence's brow furrowed. "You looked at my schedule?"  
  
"Yes," Luna spoke without a hint of embarrassment or shame.  
  
"Oh, well," he shifted in the chair, not quite uncomfortable but not entirely comfortable either, "I do have my supplies."  
  
True to his word, Credence's plain schoolbag rested out of view next to the armchair.  
  
When other Ravenclaws began to pour into the common room, Luna suggested they go to the Great Hall for breakfast. He walked alongside her, admiring the moving portraits and magic that seemed to seep through every nook and cranny of the castle.  
  
Once seated, Credence continued his reading of the book he borrowed from the common room library. "Do you think it's alright that I borrowed this?" He thought aloud.  
  
Luna glanced again at the book, "Probably, so long as you bring it back, and don't let the Nargles steal it."  
  
Curious at the second mention of Nargles, Credence asked, "What are Nargles, anyway? Some sort of magical creature?"  
  
Luna thought for a moment before replying. "They're a sort of creature, yes, though many witches and wizards don't know much about them. My dad writes about them in _the Quibbler_."  
  
"What's _t_ _he Quibbler_?"  
  
"A newspaper," she answered.  
  
"I'd like to read it, if you can show me how to get it," he said.  
  
She gave him a kind smile. "You can borrow my copy when the owls arrive."  
  
As more students entered, Luna and Credence spoke about the creatures her father wrote about in his newspaper.  
  
"Has anyone seen them?" Credence asked.  
  
"My dad has. And the Nargles steal my shoes a lot," she replied, "It's why I never go to bed without them."  
  
"So they're bad creatures?"  
  
She shook her head. "Not really, they're just... tricksters."  
  
She asked after the magical plants he studied and he told her of his particular interest in Dittany and the Venomous Tentacula.  
  
"Dittany is so helpful for people with wounds. The healing process is quicker than anything I've ever seen," he commented. "And it's so strange that plants like the Venomous Tentacula exist. I always thought that the attention and love you give to plants impacts their state, so I wonder how the Venomous Tentacula would change under care."  
  
Shortly after their conversation, owls swooped in to deliver the post. Credence's eyes widened as he spotted Percy flying toward him; he hadn't expected to receive any post.  
  
He stroked Percy's feathers while he untied the two letters attached to his leg. Percy pecked some crumbs from his plate, nibbling slightly on Credence's fingers as he tried to open the envelopes. The first, addressed to him, possessed elegant, looping handwriting. His eyes followed the dips and swirls as he read:

_Credence,  
  
We (Jacob and I) hope you're settling in all right. Congratulations on being sorted into Ravenclaw! Albus Dumbledore ensured us your classes were scheduled and told us about the arrangement to take your O.W.L.s next month. We're so excited for you! We really hope that lessons with Newt and I have helped. Jacob's not so sure on the other professors helping you, but I think you'll do well, sweetie. You're a very intelligent young man, after all, and very curious.  
  
And we wanted to tell you that our paperwork has gone through the Ministry of Magic (could hardly understand anyone's thoughts there, you know), and we're officially married!  
  
We've officially adopted you, too!  
  
If I'm not mistaken, Newt said there would be a trip to Hogsmeade early October. We'd love to have a dinner together, the three of us plus Newt if he wants to come, to celebrate. And the ceremony. Hopefully Teenie can make it.  
  
Let us know if you need anything at all, sweetie.  
  
\- Queenie Kowalski-Goldstein, xx.  
  
P.S.: I couldn't resist using our new last name! Good luck on your first day, Cree._

Credence grew a wide smile reading the letter, overjoyed at Queenie's support and relieved at the adoption, not to mention marriage between Queenie and Jacob. He puzzled at the use of 'Cree', but wasn't put off by it.  
  
"Has your family written to you?" A girl asked, an Irish lilt to her voice. She sat across from him, next to another girl with long black hair.  
  
"Yes," he spoke without thinking, but didn't entirely regret his words; in a way, Credence was gaining a family.  
  
"That's nice," she replied, "Though hopefully they're not asking you to come home."  
  
Credence frowned then. "Come home? Why?"  
  
The girl's expression sobered, "It's simple, really, what with He Who Must Not Be Named's rise to power. No parent wants their child out of their sight, much less to attend a school that, like Dumbledore said, is attempting to be attacked."  
  
"Our House alone has lost a lot of students and term's barely started," the girl next to the one who previously spoke pointed out.  
  
"I'm Padma Patil, by the way," she introduced herself.  
  
"I'm Cho Chang," the first girl who spoke added.  
  
Credence folded the letter from Queenie up, slipping it back into the envelope before answering. "I'm Credence Kowalski-Goldstein. It's nice to meet you."  
  
"That's an interesting wax seal," Luna piped up. Credence followed her gaze to the second letter he received. The seal was indeed rather odd; the color was a rich purple and the design sported a six-legged cat.  
  
"It looks like some sort of magical creature," Padma speculated.  
  
"Who's it from?" Luna asked.

Credence, unused to such attention or letters, felt heat rise to the tips of his ears, but resolved to open the letter. His heart leapt upon reading the first line:  


_Dear Credence,_ _  
__  
__If you hadn't guessed by the Wampus wax seal, the sender of this letter is Percival Graves._  
  
"Well, who is it, Credence?" Cho prompted.  
  
"A friend," he answered, his ears hotter than before.

He read on:

 _Though I suppose you've read many of the books you've gotten from cover-to-cover, do remind me to send you the volume on the history of the American wizarding school Ilvermorny, which I attended at your age._ _  
_ _  
_ _Truthfully, this letter is sent in the hope that you are doing well and adjusting to the differed location. Perhaps I should ask about something more official in case Madame President Picquery would like an explanation as to why I'm spending valuable time writing you rather than doing my job. So:_ _  
_ _  
_ _How is the wand you received from, if I'm not mistaken, Garrick Ollivander? I recall the wands we tried to use in New York proved detrimental. Mr. Scamander has assured me of Garrick's specialty in matching the wand with the wizard, so I only hope for the best._ _  
_ _  
_ _Speaking of the best, while I do resent that I will not be teaching you defensive magic myself, I hope whichever professor teaches you is adequate (do let me know if he or she is not)._ _  
_ _  
_ _Lastly,_ _  
_ _  
_ _I would like to congratulate you on Mr. And Mrs. Kowalski-Goldstein's adoption. You will make a very fine wizard, Credence, and perhaps it is better for you to have yourself and your accomplishments under their name than the previous one._ _  
_ _  
_ _Regards, Percival Graves._ _  
_ _  
_ _P. S.: Though a reply would be welcome (particularly given your correspondence would be a break from the chaos at MACUSA), it is not necessary. I wish you luck on your first day of term._

While Padma left for her morning class, Cho, Credence, and Luna returned to the Ravenclaw common room for their free period.  
  
Pulling fresh parchment, a quill, and ink bottle from his trunk, Credence settled into what was quickly becoming his preferred armchair by the window to write replies to Queenie and Mr. Graves.  
  
Luna had settled again into the chair across from him while Cho pulled up her own chair. Listening to the crackling log fire and crinkle of pages as Cho read a newspaper titled the Daily Prophet, Credence began to write his reply to Queenie:

 _Dear Queenie and Jacob,_  
  
_I am settling in all right, thank you. I am very happy on being sorted into Ravenclaw. I've even made a few friends here, particularly a girl in my year named Luna. She's very kind and soft-spoken._  
  
_Yes, Professor Dumbledore scheduled my classes and I should receive a schedule for the private lessons soon. I've learned a lot from those lessons with you and Newt. I really appreciate the help you've given me._  
  
_I am very glad you and Jacob are officially married and relieved the adoption process went smoothly._  
  
_I would greatly enjoy a dinner with you and Jacob (along with Newt, if he attends) when our Hogsmeade trip arrives. Not to mention the wedding ceremony._  
  
_I doubt I need anything more at the moment, but thank you for the offer._  
  
_\- Credence_  
  
_P.S.: Not to worry, I think the name is suitable for you, Q. Thank you._

Credence carefully folded the letter and slipped it into his bag to drop off to Percy later. Cho had mentioned something about an Owlery on their way to the tower and he hoped she, or Luna, wouldn't mind showing him so he could send his reply.  
  
Before beginning his letter to Mr. Graves, Credence was distracted by the sharp intake of air from Cho as she read _the Daily Prophet_.  
  
"What is it?" He asked.  
  
"There's been more arrests of Death Eaters, or who the Ministry says are Death Eaters, anyway," she replied. "But there's nothing on victims of attacks, or any attacks at all, really."  
  
"Sounds like _the Prophet's_ trying to make it seem like they're doing something?" Credence suggested, glancing at the pictures of the supposed Dark wizards and witches.  
  
"They don't really look like Death Eaters," he mused.  
  
Cho shrugged. "It's been rather hard to tell these days, but I know a few of these people."  
  
She glanced off into the distance, then. "They're not Death Eaters. Everyone's just scared, lately. The Ministry is scared."  
  
She paused before continuing, "And I suppose they have a right to be."

* * *

Not long after their conversation and Credence having read a few pages of _the Quibbler_ , the three arrived in their Charms class with Professor Flitwick. Luna sat next to Credence while Cho took a place next to Padma. She smiled at Credence who returned the gesture.  
  
Professor Flitwick called for silence, directing a stern look at a red-haired young man who was speaking in hushed tones with a dark-haired young man. Credence turned his attention back to the professor, eager to learn whatever spells or charms they were assigned.  
  
"Today class," Flitwick began, "We will attempt to change vinegar into wine non-verbally." He swished his wand, flasks of vinegar landing in front of each student. "Non-verbal spells may prove difficult at first, but it is necessary you perform them well in order to achieve success in this class."  
  
While he and Luna both tried, the vinegar in their flasks hadn't changed by a shade. By the end of the class, only one student had managed to transform the vinegar to wine.  
  
"Very good, Miss Granger!" Flitwick praised the student. Her flask was a deep crimson in color, perfectly executed by the looks of it.  
  
"Homework for the rest of you will be to transform the vinegar into wine just as Miss Granger has done," Flitwick informed them.  
  
Luna and Credence packed their schoolbags and walked to Herbology. On their way out of the castle, Credence spotted the same red-haired and black-haired boys from earlier. They looked deep in conversation or otherwise an argument.  
  
"Oh, they always talk like that," Luna said as though reading his mind.  
  
When they passed by, the dark haired boy greeted Luna.  
  
"Hi, Harry. How is it?" She asked.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Good, I suppose."  
  
The red haired friend of Harry's noticed _the Quibbler_ in Credence's hand as he said, "Read that, do you?"  
  
Credence, defensive of his first friend, nodded unashamedly. "Yes, it's very interesting."  
  
Remembering what Cho said about the Prophet, Credence added, "And I bet it has a lot more reliable information than _the Daily Prophet_ these days."  
  
"Ron," the girl next to him chastised him.  
  
"Sorry, mate," Ron apologized, "Didn't mean any harm by it."  
  
Still not convinced, but not eager to fight, Credence said, "I hope note, but thanks for apologizing."  
  
"You must be Luna's friend," Harry said, "I'm Harry."  
  
Credence shook his hand, "Credence Kowalski-Goldstein, nice to meet you, Harry."  
  
"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione introduced herself. "And this is Ron Weasley."  
  
"That was amazing," Credence complimented her before he could think about it, "What you did in there."  
  
Hermione glowed under the praise, "Thank you. Well, it wasn't that hard, really. I could help you some time, if you'd like."  
  
Credence nodded, though he was stopped from saying anything by Ron's next words.  
  
"You're not from here, are you, Credence?"  
  
He shook his head. "I'm from America, but.. well, Professor Dumbledore and the British Minister of Magic agreed it would be best to send me here."  
  
"Neville, there you are," Luna said. Everyone glanced in the direction of Neville who entered the hallway.  
  
"Sorry, I got held up by Professor McGonagall," Neville apologized. He turned to Credence and said, "She asked me to give you this."  
  
He handed Credence an envelope with a Hogwarts wax seal and his name on it.  
  
"Thank you."

Inside was a parchment reading the first private lesson, Defense Against the Dark Arts at 6:00 tomorrow evening.  
  
"No problem. Luna, we should be heading to Herbology," Neville said.  
  
"Oh, Credence is going with us," Luna told him. Credence followed her as she began walking.  
  
"Wait!" Hermione called. "We're coming, too!"

* * *

Credence had been pondering what his reply to Mr. Graves' letter would be as they worked in Herbology with Venomous Tentacula plants.  
  
In the table next to him, Neville, and Luna, Ron had let out a rather colorful expletive at being grabbed from behind by one of the plant's curling vines.  
  
"Alright, Mr. Weasley," Professor Sprout called, "You may use _diffindo_ to sever an arm of the plant if necessary, but otherwise pick up your doxies and feed them, yes?"  
  
She circled the greenhouse room to see how the other students were fairing, Neville in particular having no trouble feeding his plant.  
  
"Now," Professor Sprout said, "Who can tell me what's so special about the Venomous Tentacula?"  
  
Credence raised his hand slightly.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Kowalski-Goldstein."  
  
"Well, ma'am, the Venomous Tentacula has a bite that can easily stun or even kill. Their seeds are also a Class C non-tradeable substance," Credence answered.  
  
"Very good," she said, "Five points to Ravenclaw."  
  
The rest of the lesson continued mostly without incident, though Ron had to cast the Severing Charm after all when his plant strangled him in earnest.  
  
"It doesn't hurt them, does it?" Credence asked when one of the vines fell limply to the floor.  
  
"Hurt them?" Ron cried. "I'm thankful my limbs are still intact!"  
  
Hermione shook her head at him, obviously reading something from Credence's question that Ron hadn't.  
  
"Well, dear," Professor Sprout answered, "It may hurt a little, but plants are fast healers."

* * *

Credence and Neville spoke about a variety of plants at lunch, including Gillyweed, Asphodel, and Dittany. Credence showed a particular interest in Gillyweed.  
  
"It can really make you to breathe underwater?" He asked.  
  
Neville nodded excitedly, "Up to an hour. Harry used it fourth year in the Triwizard Tournament."  
  
Credence marvelled at that and asked more questions about the Tournament itself. Just as Neville explained about the second challenge involving mermaids, Harry himself appeared and sat next to Neville.  
  
Hermione and Ron joined him not long after. "What are we talking about?" Hermione asked. Neville explained, though Harry's expression grew somber at the mention of the Tournament.  
  
Luna leaned in to Credence before whispering, "Cedric Diggory died at the end of the Tournament. Don't feel bad; you couldn't have known."  
  
"Voldemort killed him," Harry spoke up, resulting in those around him wincing as if on reflex.  
  
"Voldemort?" Credence repeated. "You mean Tom Riddle, the one attacking muggles."  
  
"And those who are muggle-born," Hermione said darkly.  
  
"That's horrible," Credence said. "But if Voldemort's doing these things, really awful things, why isn't anyone doing anything about it?"  
  
"They're trying," Hermione said with confidence, "But the Minister of Magic isn't much help and most people are just scared."  
  
Credence felt a stone settle in the pit of his stomach. Phantom pain shot through the palms of his hands and he found himself absentmindedly rubbing his scars. Given the movement Mary Lou promoted, Credence knew what fear could do to people.  
  
"I've seen something like that," he murmured, "People who are scared do unforgivable things."  
  
_I did something unforgivable,_ he thought.  
  
"Fear just has this way of.. swaying people," Credence continued, "It can make people fight, but mostly it just makes them.."  
  
He trailed off, unsure of the proper word to use. Harry provided the word for him, though, "Kill."  
  
The atmosphere around the table grew quieter and heavy. It seemed to Credence like he was living a lie. Why shouldn't he be locked up for what he did? Even if Madame President Picquery said that it was the Obscurus who killed Mary Lou Barebone and not Credence, he knew there was a part of him that always wanted her dead. What if that was the only part of him left after the Obscurus was destroyed?  
  
"Credence," a voice called, "Are you all right?"  
  
The spinning began to slow, though his breathing came quick. He felt gentle hands guide him from the table and a shaking vision watch as he walked away from his friends. It took Credence a moment or two to recognize Professor McGonagall's office and the soft armchair he sat in.  
  
"Breathe, Credence," Professor McGonagall directed him. He took in one shaking breath at a time, steadying himself with each gulp of air.  
  
"You must have panicked," McGonagall concluded. "Am I to presume your reaction was caused by an unfortunate train of thought?"  
  
Credence answered her with a tired, small voice, "Yes, ma'am. I just.. thought of something that happened in New York."  
  
"And that led you to ask why you were here and not in Azkaban?" McGonagall replied.  
  
"Azkaban, Professor?"  
  
"The wizarding prison in England," she said. "Now, Mr. Kowalski-Goldstein, let me make one thing very clear." She stood from her desk, walking around it to stand in front of Credence. "You are here because you showed exceptional promise not only to surviving an Obscurus, but also your owm magical potential. The American and British wizarding governments have deemed you able to take your place among fellow wizards and witches. They have, as Albus Dumbledore has, decided that to enter the wizarding world, a proper magical education is necessary. You did not come to Hogwarts out of sheer dumb luck, but instead out of a chance to prove yourself to not only this school, but to you alone as well. What occurred in New York may be seen as criminal, tragic, and a very close call to breaking the Statute of Secrecy, but it is in the past and, more importantly, not your fault.  
  
"You are a free man, Credence, presented with the opportunity to grow as a wizard and alongside your peers. Though any guilt you harbor may take time to fade, you need to recognize your place in all of this. It was not, and never will be, your fault for the destruction of New York City nor the death of Mary Lou Barebone. Do you understand?"  
  
Credence's breathing had calmed along with his vision. He tried to take in as much of Professor McGonogall's words as he was able and the meaning behind them.  
  
"I understand, Professor," he managed to answer at last.  
  
"Good," she said kindly. "Now have a biscuit, Credence.

* * *

Transfiguration passed by well enough, though they were assigned a 15 inch essay and practice on the Bird Summoning Charm.  
  
Credence parted from Luna after class to go to the dungeons for Potions. As he was walking, Hermione caught up with him.  
  
"Credence!" She called.  
  
He stopped and turned toward her, Ron and Harry following close behind.  
  
"Hello, Hermione. Do you have Potions this period?" He asked.  
  
"Yes. Are you feeling all right after what happened at lunch?" Hermione questioned, concerned.  
  
Credence nodded and they proceeded to enter the dungeons, walking down a curved hall, to stop at the Potions classroom. Credence took in the sight of jars and knick knacks of all sorts on the shelves lining the room. He entered after Hermione, though only a few more students poured in. Hermione gestured for him to go to a table with her and her friends where a few interesting cauldrons stood. The smell of black coffee, bottled ink, and--- Credence's ears flushed as the third smell struck him --- Percival's cologne surrounded the room as he stepped inside.  
  
"What you see in front of you are three very powerful, very dangerous potions," a man, named Slughorn as Credence recalled, spoke. "Now can anyone tell me what this," he gestured to a shimmering pink potion in front of Credence, "particular potion is?"  
  
Hermione's hand predictably rose and Professor Slughorn called on her. "Yes, Miss--?"  
  
"Granger, sir," she answered, "And the potion is Amortentia, one of the most powerful love potions in the world."  
  
"Very good, yes," Professor Slughorn praised her. "And does anyone know the distinct quality of Amortentia?" He glanced around the room before zeroing in on Credence. "What about you, my boy?"  
  
With each breath carrying a dizzying scent of coffee, ink, and cologne, Credence wagered a guess. "You can smell things.. things that.. attract you?"  
  
"Good, Mr., uhm," Professor Slughorn trailed off.  
  
"Kowalski-Goldstein, sir."  
  
"Right, Mr. Kowalski-Goldstein," he said, "And what is it you smell?"  
  
Acutely aware of the eyes on him, Credence stumbled through his answer. "W-well, sir, I smell.. er, black coffee, ink, and.."  
  
Professor Flitwick Slughorn prompted him, "And?"  
  
"Um, nothing, that's it, sir," he mumbled.  
  
"Well," Slughorn waved his wand to dispel the cauldrons, leaving empty space on the tables, "The bubbling black potion is the Draught of Living Death and, if you look at the clear vial on my desk, the third potion is Felix Felicis, otherwise known as Liquid Luck. Who can tell me the effect Liquid Luck has on a witch or wizard?"  
  
Hermione raised her hand again, "Professor, Liquid Luck allows a witch or wizard to have luck for an amount of time in which everything that happens to them will be lucky."  
  
"Correct, Miss Granger," Slughorn said. "In today's lesson, you will be brewing the Draught of Living Death and the prize for whoever brews it correctly is one bottle of Felix Felicis."  
  
Harry raised his hand now.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Potter?"  
  
"Uh, sir, Ron and I don't have any supplies," Harry replied.  
  
"Not to worry, Harry. You can borrow some old cauldrons and spare books in the cupboard."  
  
Harry and Ron left to the cupboard to retrieve their supplies while a piece of chalk suspended in the air began to write the ingredients and instructions to brew the Draught of Living Death.  
  
Once Harry and Ron returned, Professor Slughorn called for them to begin.  
  
Credence fell into a steady rhythm once he had the ingredients, his potion changing hues as the hour stretched on. Hermione's grew a peculiar shade of purple or burgundy; Credence couldn't quite tell the color. Ron's had nearly boiled over and was emitting a rotten eggs smell.  
  
When the hour was up, Professor Slughorn walked to each of the three tables surveying everyone's work. If his unimpressed expressions were any indication, he didn't seem pleased with their performances.  
  
Once at Credence's table, he hurriedly vanished Ron's potion which gained a small pool of muck around it in the past few minutes. He frowned at Hermione's and his expression looked less severe at Credence's. "Almost perfect," he mumbled.  
  
Credence glanced downward, a sweet aroma filling his nostrils from the potion he made. "Thank you, sir."  
  
"But almost perfect doesn't win a competition, my boy," he reminded Credence, lastly turning to Harry's.  
  
"My word!" He exclaimed before dropping a feather into the cauldron which immediately disintegrated. "Very well done, Harry, very well done. Congratulations, you win the flask of Felix Felicis."  
  
Hermione's expression grew sour and even Credence felt a twinge of envy before squashing it down; he should be glad he hadn't been kicked out. Before Professor Slughorn gave Harry the flask he said, "Use it wisely."  
  
"I will, sir," Harry said before taking the flask.

* * *

Luna and Credence made their way after class to Defense Against the Dark Arts. They stood in the hallway next to Hermione, Ron, Harry, and a few other students before Professor Snape stepped out.  
  
"Enter," he said before stepping into the room.  
  
As the students poured inside, they sat and opened their books for the class. Credence was reaching for his bag to do the same when Professor Snape said, "I have not told anyone to take their books out."  
  
Hurriedly, those who had done so shoved their books back into their bags. "Frankly knowing that none of you can seemingly follow along to a lack of instruction speaks volumes about how this subject has faired over the past five years," he continued.  
  
"Moreover not a single professor has provided a morsel of usefulness in this subject and teaching of it which leads me to think the majority of you in this classroom scraped by. If you are to proceed with this class, I will inform you that I will not tolerate the pitiful excuse for defensive magic you all no doubt possess."  
  
Credence, throughout Professor Snape's speech, was beginning to feel more and more intimidated.  
  
"Now," he concluded, "Who can tell me the difference between Inferi and ghosts?"  
  
Though Hermione's hand shot up, Professor Snape continued to survey around the room.  
  
"Anyone?" He asked.  
  
His focus, however, turned on to Harry. "Mr. Potter, perhaps you can tell me the difference between Inferi and ghosts."  
  
Harry looked startled as he fumbled for words. "Er.. that is to say.. ghosts are transparent?"  
  
Credence, who knew even less about either than Harry other than a brief explanation from Queenie, recognized his answer as appalling.  
  
Professor Snape seemed to share the thought as he berated Harry's lack of knowledge, insulted his intelligence, and mentioned his so-called constant air of cockiness. While Credence hadn't conversed much with him, he disagreed that Harry was outright smug or cocky, though he had the forethought to bite his tongue.  
  
Evidently, Harry did not as he quipped, "There's no need to call me 'sir', Professor."  
  
Credence's jaw dropped as he was certain this would be the end of Harry Potter or otherwise any free time he might have had. Likewise, Professor Snape sentenced a detention before returning to the front of the room. "I expect a 15 inch essay about Inferi, their origins, and how they differ from ghosts other than their very obvious transparency by Wednesday. Let's hope you don't disappoint."

* * *

Credence and Luna parted from the class afterward to arrive outside for Care of Magical Creatures. Newt aided Hagrid in teaching the smaller class about Demiguises. Newt praised Credence at his mention of most invisibility cloaks being crafted from Demiguise fur. The rest of the lesson was spent chasing Demiguises and attempting to catch them. Thankfully Hagrid hadn't assigned any homework and the class was released for dinner.

Credence decided to write his reply to Mr. Graves at dinner, shuffling the papers in his bag to find fresh parchment:

_Dear Mr. Graves,_

_The wax seal is interesting. Is Wampus a magical creature?_

_I would love to read such a book, if you wouldn't mind sending it._

_I am doing well, thank you. Classes were a little difficult today, but I'm sure I'll catch up. Herbology was my favorite (we worked with Venomous Tentacula plants). I do hope writing a letter to me didn't compromise your work. If so, please don't feel obligated to reply to this one._

_To answer your question, though, Mr. Ollivander paired me with a wand that I think suits me well. It's Sycamore wood, unicorn tail hair core, and 8 1/2 inches. I'll practice with it this evening as Professor McGonagall assigned us the Bird Summoning Charm for homework. When I first got the wand, sparks shot out of it and I just knew the magic felt right, somehow._

_While I would prefer your teaching, Professor Snape will be providing Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. My first lesson is tomorrow evening with him._

_Thank you, Mr. Graves. It is a relief not to have the Barebone name, especially at Hogwarts. I worry that my classmates, and new friends, will question my presence here more than anything and find out I was an Obscurial. I just hope I can be as good a wizard as you are._

_And I'm sure Queenie has already invited you, but what would you say to attending the wedding ceremony of her and Jacob? It's coming up and I think it would be nice if you attended._

_Regards, Credence Kowalski-Goldstein._

_P.S.: I hope by the time you receive this letter, things will have calmed down at MACUSA. Please remember to get some rest and eat something. And I would be more than happy to write to you, if you want me to._

Credence folded the parchment and slid it into an envelope.

"Is that for your friend?" Luna asked.

Credence nodded. "Oh, Luna, would you be willing to practice our Transfiguration homework with me?"

"Of course," she replied, "I'll also practice our Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with you, if you'd like."

"Thank you, Luna."

* * *

 Credence stopped by the Owlery on his way to Ravenclaw Tower, giving Percy his replies to Queenie and Mr. Graves.

"I have some treats if you'd like to give him one," Luna suggested. 

"Sure." Credence gave Percy one before he took off.

They returned to the Ravenclaw common room and found what was quickly becoming their favorite spot in the armchairs by the window. Luna worked with him on the Bird Summoning Charm, though the only progress had been a few measly feathers. Credence frowned, wondering why he wasn't producing more than that.

"Maybe we could work on our Defense homework?" Luna suggested, "I know the perfect place to do it."

Seeing as it was early evening, Luna and Credence left Ravenclaw Tower without much fuss from anyone. Luna led him down multiple halls to stand in front of a blank brick wall, though as Luna paced three times across it, Credence could feel the magic from the area buzz under his skin.

"Luna!" A voice called.

She turned toward the source before stepping inside the door that appeared, Credence stepping quickly in after her.

"What was that?" He asked. He received an answer as Harry stumbled into the room.

"Oh, Harry, it's you," Luna pointed out.

"Yes, it's me," he said, "Why are you guys using the old DA headquarters?"

"DA?" Credence repeated.

The next few minutes were spent explaining Dumbledore's Army and a horrible woman named Umbridge Luna and Harry, as well as the other members of the DA, dealt with in fifth year. An idea came to Credence then, but he doubted Harry would approve.

"Wait, Harry," he began, "Since you were so good at teaching defensive magic, could you help me? And Luna? I'm.. pretty behind everyone else, really."

Harry hesitated. "I'm not sure, mate.."

"It's not like you would be bringing back the DA," Luna spoke, "If anything, it might help you practice the non-verbal spells Professor Snape assigned us."

"Well, all right," Harry agreed.

Credence, for a moment, wondered if his suggestion was for better or for worse, before Harry gestured for him to walk further into the large space.

 _Here goes nothing,_ Credence thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh okay so I love the DA??
> 
> And the thought of Harry helping Credence out even just one time is too good to pass up??
> 
> Basically this is where I start to deviate from the plot of HBP, even if in a small way. 
> 
> Not sure what may be in store further down the line, but we'll have to see.
> 
> Also I hope any readers sticking with this are excited for Queenie and Jacob's marriage.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
